


A random one-shot collection

by abrandneweeveelution



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gay, Hermabeth?, HermionexAnnabeth fluff, LGBTQ Themes, Meh, Multi, One Shot Collection, Pidge is awesome, Starbucks, is that even called hermabeth, klance fluff, snowbaz fluff, solangelo fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrandneweeveelution/pseuds/abrandneweeveelution
Summary: Random one-shots; most will be original. If you want to leave a request, put it in the comments and I will consider it. Some will be fluff; some will be crossovers, I'm just going to play around with different stuff. The theme will be in the title, you can skip over anything you don't want to read. I will add pairings and other tags to the tags section as I go, and I will attempt a new chapter per week. However, I will not be able to do this every week.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Hermione Granger, Keith/Lance (Voltron), Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Sirius Black/James Potter, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Kudos: 17





	1. James/Sirius-Harry Potter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [travelfan1346](https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelfan1346/gifts), [Kyuss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyuss/gifts), [Crazylocobunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazylocobunny/gifts), [sunlightschadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlightschadow/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only character in this chapter that belongs to me is Professor Sledz, who I'm dedicating to my good friend M. Sledz (not going to reveal her first name because I don't know how she would respond to that). I wish everyone reading this an insanely year whether or not you guys are going back to school/work/whatever you do on a typical weekday.

James sat straighter. He thrust his hand into the air as he tried to get Professor Sledz to call on him and not Lily for once, but slumped back down again, as, inevitably, the teacher called on her.

"Is there _anything_ that she doesn't know?" he mumbled to himself sarcastically, making sure that the professor wouldn't hear. He lowered his head to his hands and sulkily watched as Lily performed a perfect Disarming Charm, impressing the professor and everyone around him. She then walked back to her seat in such a way that it might have been easy for someone who didn't know her to assume that she was a Slytherin. When she sat back down, she subtly pointed her wand at him and conjured a note into his lap. The curly writing on the back of it had three words: "Maybe next time." He crumpled it up and stuffed it in his bag.

The rest of the class time passed by quickly. James and Lupin partnered up to practice the Disarming Charm on each other. They had a lot of fun when James went to retrieve his wand, got hit by the charm on the way back, and had to run across the room to get it before it hit the professor in the face.

After class, outside in the corridor, Sirius came up to them. He was visibly angry at something, and as he approached, it became less and less clear what that something was.

"What happened?" asked Lupin immediately.

"What else?" Sirius replied.

James and Lupin exchanged a knowing look. Ever since the day that Professor Sledz placed the Sorting Hat on his head, Sirius had been experiencing harassment, bullying, rude remarks, and sometimes worse. And it was all because he was a Gryffindor.

"Who was it this time?" James questioned him. He stayed silent; there was a dull look in his eyes. _Oh._ James knew who it was. Sirius' brother, Regulus, had been giving Sirius the hardest time of all.

"What did he do this time?" Lupin inquired thoughtfully.

Sirius looked around, warily, at the Slytherins in the hallway. "Not here," he told them. "Follow me."

James and Lupin looked at each other in confusion. _Has he discovered a new room?_ He wondered excitedly.

Sirius whipped around, smoothed out his robes, and started to lead the way. James and Lupin hurried to follow. After a little bit of walking, they came to the old tapestry of crazy old Barnabas trying to teach trolls to do ballet. _He probably failed miserably,_ thought James as he walked past it. After a second, he realized that Sirius had stopped walking around the time they got to the hanging, and he quickly turned back. Sirius had turned back and was now pacing back and forth in front of the tapestry, muttering something to himself.

"Has he gone mad?" James whispered to Lupin, who looked just as confused as he felt. Lupin shrugged in response. Sirius was now on his third walk past the hanging, when, suddenly, a door appeared in the wall.

James blinked. _What in the name of Merlin!? How?_ Beside him, he heard Lupin gasp, and he began to take out the Marauder's Map and a quill.

As he was sketching out this new area, he heard Sirius' voice. "You can do that later," it whispered. "Just go inside."

James quickly looked up. He saw Lupin disappear into the room behind Sirius, and he figured that if Lupin, of all people, was willing to go, then there wasn't any reason for him not to go, too. He put the quill back into his bag, Disillusioned the Marauders Map, and put the Map into the bottom of his bookbag for safekeeping, and followed his two friends through the doorway.

When they all were inside the room, Sirius closed the door and took out his wand. "Lumos," he said softly, and the room lit up, allowing him to spot two lamps near a group of red-and-gold beanbag chairs across the tan, fluffy, hand-knotted carpet, and then he walked over to the chairs, turned on the lights, extinguished his wand, and sat down in one of the chairs. Turning to face the other two boys, who were gawking at him, he pointed to the corner furthest from the door and said calmly, "James, if you want to add this room to the Map now, there's a table over there. However, when you finish, could you come over here? You too, Lupin." He then pulled a book off one of the bookshelves that were conveniently placed next to him and started to read.

Walking over to the table, James pulled out the Map from where he'd stowed it away, and pulled out the special quill they used. He had always wondered what the space across from the hanging was; now, he knew.

He started to sketch out the approximate shape of the room, and as he finished, the Map accepted the outline onto the paper. The lines darkened, and suddenly the Map labeled the area. The words that it used were these: "The Room of Requirement." Lupin had discovered how to make the Map do this when reading a book that he found in the Restricted Section of the library a couple of years ago. It had taken him a few weeks to figure out how to work the charm. Still, he eventually learned the correct wand movement and pronunciation, which Sirius was sorry to hear, as they had had some hilarious episodes in which Lupin accidentally set his hair on fire (they never did figure out what those spells were).

Seeing that the Map had finished the illustrating for him and that it showed their positions once more, James rolled up the parchment. He walked over to Sirius, who had lost interest in the book and was toying with a little crystal globe, and sat down. Lupin was already sitting on the other side of Sirius.

"So... what did Regulus do this time?" James asked Sirius gently.

"He lied to the Charms teacher and claimed that I had taken his wand, and when I tried to tell the truth, the teacher gave me detention because apparently, she could 'see me lying in my little, black, detestable eyes.'" Sirius looked down.

"You need to inform Dumbledore about this. He'll believe you. You may like to get into stuff, but you would never steal another wizards' wand." Lupin demanded furiously. "Teachers should not be jaded when giving out consequences."

"I fully agree," said James firmly. "That is incredibly unjust. Teachers should not have favorites."

"Thanks, guys," Sirius told them, getting up from his seat. "I guess I should probably go do that before my detention, then, to see if Dumbledore will get me out of it."

"Hey, wait for a second," James called out. He quickly burst out of his chair, caught up to Sirius before he reached the door, and hugged him. "If anything worse happens, you can always come to discuss it with me, okay?"

Sirius looked surprised for a moment, then hugged him firmly back. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay."


	2. Simon/Baz-Carry On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've finished the second book, so I'm trying to satisfy my Simon Snow-deprivation by rereading and writing fanfiction. I've never actually written a canon ship before, but, then again, there's never been a gay canon ship that was magical, cute, first-person present-tense, and well-written.

**_Simon_**

All summer long, I waited.

I waited for Watford. 

I waited to see Penny again. 

But mostly, I waited for _him._

Baz promised me that he'd be back here at the end of the summer, making my life miserable like he always does. Looking insanely handsome- just like he always does.

I usually try not to think about it. Wipe it from my mind just like I always do at the end of spring semester. Come inside from the storm of emotions that I always feel at school, just for the summer, and then slowly make my way back out in the fall.

But this summer, for some reason I just- I can't. 

Actually, I know the reason, and the reason is him. The vampire son of Natasha Grimm-Pitch.

Making my life miserable since 2008.

* * *

I get out of bed the morning of the first day of school. My hair looks like a rat's nest-I know by how it feels when I run my fingers through it. Only one of my care homes has ever had a mirror, so I've had to learn ways to tell. Ways to reach my destination without actually ever going on the road.

It's like in the poem "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost (or something like that. The last time I read it was fourth grade, and even then I didn't pay much attention to his name.) Only, I _couldn't_ choose the first path. So, I did what I had to. I went on the second one, and I hoped that I could eventually get onto the first someday. 

But that hasn't happened yet. Which is why the operative word is _someday._

* * *

I check out, and take my usual ride to school. Two busses, a train, and a cab ride. It's boring, as usual. 

I only see one other person on the road. I don't care to check who it is.

* * *

**_Baz_ **

I wonder where the Mage sent him this time. At least he's not Harry Potter or something like that. (J.K. Rowling must have really had to use her imagination to write those books-she's not even a magician, so I still respect her for even being able to think it up. But she got _so much_ wrong when it came to how she depicted magic. So much.) He's told me in the past that he moves around a lot, so I don't think I'll try to find him. At least, not unless he asks me to. But then I won't have to, because he doesn't have a phone, so he'd either send me a letter or talk to me at Watford. I'd know where he was either way, because if he sent me a letter he'd have to put a return address on the back, and if we were at Watford, well, we'd be at Watford. And if we were together at Watford (or anywhere), I don't think I'd be able to resist him.

* * *

When I wake up, I stay in my pajamas. They don't look that different from other people's normal clothes, and my school uniform will be waiting at Watford anyways. Also, decisions take energy, which I'm going to need a whole lot of tonight. Most of that energy I'm conserving now is going to go to keeping myself from not kissing Snow. The rest is going to keeping myself from killing Agatha, mostly because she's Snow's partner. And if she's Snow's partner, then I'm not. Also, because she actually went along with my petty attempt to infuriate Snow. (Thinking about that now brings up questions. Does she not like him? If so, then I might not have to kill her for the first reason, because Snow won't be hers. Only for the second reason.)

I head out of my bedroom, being careful not to slam the door too hard, in case it breaks. All of the doors in this house are ancient; my dad refuses to replace them because of the media. If a single thing changed in our house and they caught wind of it, they would pounce on it, make theories, do typical media shit. That's happened once before. My little sister accidentally ruined the table cloth when she was a toddler by flipping her piece of blueberry pie onto it one Christmas, therefore staining the tablecloth, and, to make matters worse, she accidentally pushed off the table when it happened, which tipped her highchair over. She tried to grab the cloth when she fell backwards, but that just ripped the end off, as the weight on the rest of it was great enough to counteract her pulling force. When the newspaper people did a tour of our house the year after, my father hadn't replaced it, but instead bought a new, royal blue one. This changed their log of our house, which we keep because our house is basically an antique in and of itself. It's an antique filled with antiques. Anyways, the local newspaper had a field day with that story, and somehow thought that my younger siblings going at it with scissors when three out of four of them couldn't even hold a pencil was plausible. All of us learned our lesson that year: _Don't mess up the house._ Otherwise, the reporters will mess up your reputation.

At the table, my second-oldest younger sibling is beaming with pride, messing with his new wand, eating breakfast, and somehow still keeping track of his luggage at the same time. Apparently we're having a special breakfast in honor of his first day in school: eggs with biscuits, sausage, gravy; a typical American breakfast, mostly because he loves all things American. He loves America in general, and would probably go to live there if he could, even though they don't have a _single_ decent wizarding school there. I try to choke down the food as best as I can before my taste buds can register the flavor of the food. He turns to me, thinking that I'm eating so fast because I like it. "Did I make a good choice?"

"It was... alright. It could have been better." I shrug and put on a fake smile. He seems satisfied.

"When are we leaving?" he asks me. 

I put on my best _"Seriously?"_ face and reply, "Why should I know? Father's going to be the one taking us." He quickly stuffs a piece of egg in his mouth and runs off, probably to wake him up.

* * *

Later, when we're in the car, driving to Watford, I'm in the backseat, and my little brother is in the front. It's another tradition in our family: the first year is in the front. He's talking nonstop ("Are we there yet? Are we there yet?") and I'm looking out the window. Mordelia's riding beside me; it's her second year going. On the last bit of road before we reach the school, I notice a cab that's come up beside us. I begin to wonder who would ride in a taxi to school, and try to see.

It's Snow.

I can't believe it. Snow. Him. 

He's sitting in the backseat, looking kind of depressed. I wonder why. Anyways, his car has passed us now. 

* * *

I finally get away from my family, thank Merlin, and up to our room. Snow's sitting there on his bed, looking just as handsomely confused as usual. I put my stuff down on my bed and I begin to unpack, taking all my toiletries to the bathroom and putting my pajamas away. I try to ignore how cute Snow looks when he's trying to catch my attention, and instead focus on the task at hand. These are the times I save my energy for. Times when Snow is looking incredibly cute, I haven't been practicing my self-control over the summer, and there's no one else around.

"Baz!" He's apparently given up on trying to catch my eye.

I turn and smile innocently. "Yes, Simon?" I didn't even mean to say it; it just slips out. But he still notices. He always does.

He looks shocked and surprised. "You- you called me Simon." 

"Yes, I did. Thank you for noticing, Sherlock."

"But why?"

 _Shit._ I grab my uniform off my bed and go to the bathroom to change. It feels nice and comfortable, and it gives me something to do.

"Baz." He's stood up.

"Yes."

"You never answered."

"I know that."

"Will you?"

I sigh. "You'll find out eventually," I mutter. I turn towards the door and head for breakfast.

* * *

**_Simon_ **

I see him turning to leave and I quickly follow him. When I finally get to the bottom of the stairs, I'm panting, but his breath is perfect. _Merlin, he's fast,_ I marvel as I watch him jog across the courtyard. It's always been like this. Him running; me chasing.

I hate it.

"Baz! Wait!" I start to run after him, and he slows down just enough for me to catch up. (I still have to run fairly hard, however.) When I reach him, my legs are aching and there's a stabbing pain in my side. I really kind of hate him right now.

"What is it." His voice is sharp, and I can hear pain. 

"Can we talk?"

"What about?"

"I just want to talk," I tell him.

Baz starts to turn. "Let's go into the woods, then."

We walk for a bit through the forest, and then we stop in a clearing surrounded by trees. It's nice outside, and the wind is blowing just enough so that it's not too hot. We sit down against the trunk of one of the largest oaks that I've ever seen, and he takes my hand. It's unexpected, sure, but I like it.

"What happened earlier?" I ask, trying not to be too interrogative. He sighs, and then I guess he decides to tell me, because his face goes soft.

"I'm in love with you. That's my secret. I'm gay and I'm in love with my roommate, Simon fucking Snow."

He leans his head on me, and I think, _Shit._ I've never even considered being anything but straight, and now Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, who's also my roommate and a vampire, is sitting here and telling me that not only is he gay, but he also has a crush on me. And the worst part (or best, I can't decide which) is that we're holding hands, I'm blushing, and I suddenly really want to kiss him.

So I do.

* * *

**_Baz_ **

I've got Snow where I want him. Sitting here next to me. Holding my hand. And my secret is out, and now he's probably going to hate me. 

Imagine what would happen if my mother saw me now. Her precious son. Gay and a vampire. Holding hands with the Chosen One.

Maybe it would be better if the Coven burned me at the stake. It would save everyone around me plenty of heartbreak.

Then Simon leans over. 

He kisses me

And at that moment, I come back. 

I grab him by the waist and pull him towards me. He wraps his arms around my neck, and we just stay there. We kiss. We kiss until he looks up and realises that the moon has come up and we're locked out for the night. And we don't even care. We just keep going, kissing and lying on the floor of the forest like the teenagers we are. 

It's the best I've felt in my life. Simon Snow is gay too. I'm kissing him. We're in love. 

I guess vampires can have happy endings after all.


	3. Percy Jackson  Harry Potter  crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have really wanted to write something like this for a while. My younger sister gave me the idea for the first scene. THIS IS NOT HARRY/PERCY! the ship this chapter is a friend-ship between Annabeth and Hermione.

Hermione stared as the girl stepped out of the Forbidden Forest. ' _Who_ is _that?'_ she wondered. The strange girl came out, blinking in the bright sunshine as her eyes adjusted to the light, with her long, dirty-blonde hair falling in her face. She was wearing a stained purple t-shirt that had writing on it that Hermione couldn't make out, and there was a sky-blue backpack slung over one of her shoulders. She would have looked like she had just been in Azkaban for a couple of months if she hadn't been so- well, _composed_. 

As the girl spotted her, Hermione was running through a list of options in her head. ' _She doesn't look like she's a wizard, but then, wizards look the same as Muggles, don't they? I don't see a wand anywhere on her. But she would have had to be magic to get in here, so what is she?'_ The girl started coming over to her. Hermione heard her approaching and reached for her wand as she came up. Whipping it out of her pocket, Hermione growled, "I have a wand, and I know how to curse, hex, and jinx you, and there are several other people around who can as well. Tell me who you are, and more importantly, what your background is." The girl backed up a bit, holding up her hands as if surrendering, and said cautiously, "My name is Annabeth Chase. I am a half-blood, and my mother is Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom. She's the one who brought me here." Now that she was closer, Hermione could see the writing on the shirt. The white text read "SPQR", and the garment (if you could even call it a garment any more) itself looked like a hippogriff had chewed on it.

Still cautious, Hermione interrogated Annabeth further. With her wand still held up in front of her, she inquired, "Where do you come from?" Annabeth looked annoyed at the apparent distrust, but told her, "I come from Long Island, in New York." Hermione pondered this. ' _Annabeth doesn't look like she's lying to me', she_ thought to herself. ' _Maybe I can trust her, at least a little bit.'_ She lowered her wand a bit, and Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Finally. What's _your_ name, now that you've decided that I'm safe?" 

Hermione thought for a moment more and then chose to tell her. "My name is Hermione Granger." She brought her wand down to her side. "What are you doing here?"

"Still trying to find out where the hell my mom sent me." Annabeth laughed sarcastically. "Then I'll probably have to email my boyfriend, although he'll probably understand. This kind of thing has happened to him before."

"We don't have wi-fi here, you know," Hermione informed her. "You'll have to go into the Muggle areas to get that." 

Annabeth smiled devilishly. "Oh, this computer doesn't need wi-fi to operate," she said with a smirk. "Daedalus created it, you know. Also, by the way, what's a Muggle?"

"Muggles are non-magical folk. You know, the type that can't perform supernatural feats or spells."

Annabeth thought for a moment. "Oh, so, regular humans?"

"Yeah." Hermione spontaneously recalled something that Annabeth had told her about the computer, and she started. "Hold on a second- did you just say that _Daedalus_ built your computer?"

Annabeth nodded smugly. "Yep," she confirmed. She now had a smirk on her face, and Hermione was starting to want to reach out and fix it.

Hermione was stunned. " _Daedalus!_ The person who figured out how to fly! The person who built the Labyrinth! Did he seriously also build your computer?"

Annabeth smiled at her intense infatuation with the information. "What did I tell you?"

"Wow," Hermione breathed in wonder. "How long has it survived?"

Annabeth replied thoughtfully. She was starting to like Hermione, now that they had found something in common to share. "Probably one and a half centuries."

"Can I see it?" Hermione looked at Annabeth with pleading eyes. On any typical day, she would have said no, but this wasn't an ordinary day. They locked eyes, and Annabeth conceded. "Fine," she grumbled. "Just let me message Percy real quick." She unzipped her bag, brought out the computer, and set it on the lawn. When she had signed in, she opened up her email and started typing up a quick letter to Percy: "at some wizarding school called Hogwarts-mom brought me here- it's at".

Annabeth cursed. She looked up from her position in the grass and asked Hermione, "Where is this place located?" Hermione considered the question and replied, "We're in Scotland. Does your boyfriend have a way to fly?"

"Umm... he has a pegasus," Annabeth replied, tentatively.

"Well, if he flies over Scotland, he'll see it, unless he's entirely Muggle. Then all he'll see is an old, broken-down shack."

"Okay. Thanks for the info," Annabeth told her as she typed up the location.

She sent the email off to Percy, and then said to Hermione, "You may inspect this, but please don't break it." She then stepped aside and let Hermione use the computer.

Hermione was about to beat the dinosaur game ("Look, Annabeth, I'm almost to one million!") when her ears popped. She felt something blow past her, and, next she looked, there was a tall, sturdy-looking brown horse standing next to Annabeth. Riding on it was a brown-skinned girl with crimped black hair and dark brown eyes. "Hey, Annabeth. I came as quickly as he-" she thumped the horse-"would take me," the rider said. Noticing Hermione, she asked Annabeth suspiciously, "Who's this?" 

Annabeth caught on to the tension and made haste to introduce them to each other. "Hazel, this is Hermione," she said, gesturing between the two of them. "Hermione, this is Hazel. She's another one of my demigod friends."

"Percy should be coming with Blackjack any second now," Hazel told Annabeth. "For now, I'm going to stay here and feed Arion. I can sense lots of gold in the soil here." Hermione watched in quiet fascination as Hazel knelt to the ground, held her hand out with her palm facedown, and drew a golden ring from the dirt. Hazel did this a few more times until she had a small pile of gold next to her, and then she let the horse at the pile. Suddenly Hazel straightened up. "Oh, he's right on time." Hazel looked up, and Annabeth and Hermione mimicked her. Sure enough, there was a black horse coming down from the clouds, with another purple-shirt wearing rider on top. As they descended, Annabeth's face lit up in a smile. When the pegasus's hooves finally touched the ground, the last person to arrive (who was presumably Percy) stepped off lightly. Annabeth ran up to him and flung her arms around him. "Oh-please-get off," Percy panted as he pushed Annabeth off him. 

"So, what special power do you have?" Hermione asked Percy. He looked flustered for a second, and then he told her, "My dad is Poseidon, so I can control water. Watch this." He then proceeded to make a bouquet of roses out of some lake water and gave it to Annabeth. "Here you are. Happy anniversary," he teased her, as she held the liquid flowers. "You're going to have to get me something much better than lake water this year, Seaweed Brain," she replied, and then she let the flowers flow out of her grasp. "Oh, here," she said, looking over at Hermione in embarrassment. "It was nice spending time with you, even though you almost cursed me to Hades and back at first," she told her, digging a slip of paper out of her bag and writing something on it. She then handed the slip to Hermione, who stuffed it into her robe pocket. She hopped on the back of the pegasus, and Percy got on in front of her. "Well, bye," Hazel told her, swinging her leg over Arion's back. "Go, Arion!" she told the horse, who proceeded to run off so fast that not even Harry on his Firebolt could have topped it. "I'll message you later," Annabeth said. "Bye!" Then Blackjack lifted off into the sky, and it was over.

* * *

Hermione woke up to find her head throbbing. It felt like her eardrums had popped, but why? She struggled to remember the dream she'd had, and when she finally did, she looked down, found herself in her pyjamas, and realised that it had been just that: a dream. 

When she got into her robe, however, she checked the pockets just to make sure. As she rifled through the front left pocket, she felt something at the bottom. She turned the pocket lining inside out and saw a pink slip of paper flutter to the ground. She picked it up and saw that the backside had the word "magic" written on it in Ancient Greek.

 _'Hmm...',_ she thought. _'_ _M_ _aybe it was real after all.'_


	4. SolAngelo-Percy Jackson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A soulmate AU where your soulmate's thoughts write themselves on the palm of your hand.

**Will**

_Who. The fuck. Is_ _it_.

That's what was on my hand this morning. Written in black ink and making me wonder if I'm a narcissist because that's what I had thought at that moment.

Now it's gone, but the feeling is still there. The "who the fuck is it" feeling. At least I know that it isn't me. That would just be weird.

I'm at work right now. Lucky for me, I have to turn my hand over and show the customers my palm every time I want to accept a tip or take payment. If it's the customer's thought, they'll recognize it. If not, then they won't. Simple as that. 

I look at my hand, just out of habit, and I realize that the writing's changed to _Wow. He's kind of cute._ I look up and see that a dark-haired kid wearing a black hoodie has walked in. He looks kind of familiar, and he's blushing a bit as he considers the menu options. (I work at a Starbucks.)

"Hey," he says, embarrassed. I smile at him, which just makes him turn a darker shade of pink. 

I ask him, "What would you like?" Just like we were taught in training. He seems to know exactly what it is, because he replies, "Could I have a Pumpkin Mocha Breve?" 

"Okay," I respond, holding out my hand for whatever payment method he chooses. "That'll be three dollars and ninety-seven cents." But he doesn't respond, instead choosing to stare at my open hand like it's the Holy Grail.

"Tha- that's my- that's my handwriting," he stammers, astonished. I take his hand and flip it over, and, sure enough, there my thoughts are, writing themselves down on his palm as I think them. "My name is Will," I tell him. "Nice to meet you, soulmate." Then I walk out from behind the counter, take his hand, and kiss him.

When we pull apart, the first thing he says is, "How much was it?"

"It's on the house," I say, watching him nervously fiddle with the black ring that he's wearing on his left hand. He's now blushing up to his ears.

_So this is my soulmate._

* * *

** Nico **

Fuck. Me. 

I've just met my soulmate, and he's acting smooth as fucking silk, and he just kissed me, and the only thing that I can think to say is, "How much is it?"

And then I think, _Oh, shit, is he a demigod?_ He looks like a perfectly normal young man, and I can't see any tattoos or bead necklaces or things like that...

He moves his head, turning to go back behind the counter and make me my coffee, and that's when I see it. A thin strand of brown twine knotted behind his neck.

He's from Camp Half-Blood. I think I might recognize him as Will Solace, from the Apollo cabin. He was always pretty nice to me.

I know him, but does he remember me? "I'm Nico. Nico di Angelo. From Camp Half-Blood. Do you remember?" He looks up at me, and his eyes light up. He nods yes.

"I've always liked you, you know," he tells me, looking back down at the hot cup of coffee. "Even when you liked Percy, I always had a crush on you."

I put my head in my hands and sigh. "Did Jason seriously tell everyone about that?" I groan. "Yep," he confirms sheepishly. "I'm going to kill him when I see him next," I mutter darkly.

He laughs and says, "Please don't. You may be the son of Hades, but that won't stop Zeus from sending you through Tartarus."

"Oh, please. You insult me. I've already been there and done that at least once," I respond. Will raises an eyebrow and looks at me skeptically. "Will, I'm serious. You can ask Percy or Annabeth if you have any doubts."

"I trust you," he says lightly, though I'm not sure how much I believe him.

"I hope you do." I realize that he's done making my drink, so I take it from him and hand him four dollars. "Take it," I say when he tries to protest. "You can give it back as an anniversary present." He grins mischievously and tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans. The look on his face tells me that he probably will.

I let out a yawn as I watch him step back outside of the kitchen, his golden hair falling in lazy waves over his sky blue eyes, and I realize one of the only facts in my life.

If this is my soulmate, I'm never going to have an entirely bad day again.


	5. Luna/Ginny-Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU in which Luna is a vampire. It is written in the second person point of view, and Luna and Ginny are in the same year as the others because otherwise, the story wouldn't work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this one-shot was posted on its own, the title would be, "Consolation but No Cure".

**_Ginny_ **

Luna’s sitting by herself. 

She’s always sitting by herself, even when there are people with her. She’s always been just a bit out of the group. There’s never been a time when you’ve seen her fully integrated into a crowd; she’s much too unique for that.

Walking over to her, you smile gently and ask, “Can I sit here?” 

She smiles back. “Of course, Ginny,” she replies. But you’ve already pulled out the chair beside her before she can finish her sentence.

She’s still smiling after that, but it’s tense and strained, not easy and sweet like the grin she gave you a few moments ago. You’re both turning red from embarrassment, both of you waiting for the other to keep the conversation going.

“So, nice weather, I guess?” You’re tripping over the words, not quite knowing what to say and not quite understanding what  _ not _ to say.

She gives you an appreciative look and says, “Yeah, I suppose it is.” The tension has become as thick as the knots in your unwashed, uncombed hair, and you’re desperate for something to break it. ‘ _ Maybe a hammer would do, _ ’ you think, and then you chuckle. Luna’s eyes turn dangerous, and you assure her, “It’s not you. Don’t worry. You know I would never laugh at you, Luna.” It helps, but only the tiniest bit.

“Good,” she growls, grabbing her bag and stalking away, leaving you to wonder how you messed up such a simple conversation so badly.

* * * * 

As you dump the last of the powder into the cauldron, Luna quickly puts her wand in and starts stirring. “Three stirs clockwise, two stirs counterclockwise,” she mutters under her breath, looking down at the instructions. After a few minutes, the two of you can see that the potion is finally done - and you can smell it. To you, the potion smells like your mom’s sandwiches and Luna. You have no idea what it smells like to her.

“So,” Professor Snape calls from the front of the classroom, “I assume that most of you are done brewing the Amortentia?” Everyone except Neville, who’s paired with Ron, nods. “I didn’t mean  _ you, _ ” Snape barks, looking him in the eye. “Merlin only knows whether you’d ever be able to finish a potion as complex as this in the time allotted. I expect the rest of you to start testing your potions now.”

You watch as Luna tries the sweet-smelling mixture of porcupine quills, dragon scales, and about a million other ingredients that you’ll never remember. After a few minutes, she grins at you - that grin of admiration, love, and mutual respect that you’ve come to crave. Across the room, out of the corner of your eye, you can see Harry blushing as Draco reaches for his shoulders, Pansy holding Hermione’s waist as Hermione kisses her, and Dean holding Seamus’ hand, and you wonder, ‘ _ Is that what Luna’s going to be like? _ ’ Because if so, you’ll take whatever she’ll give you.

* * * * 

The Amortentia lesson was the start of several relationships.

Before three weeks have gone by, Harry and Draco have already decided that they enjoyed what happened that day. Pansy and Hermione have, too. 

You and Luna are doing better, at least. You’ve started talking to each other again, and the tension that was always in the air before is gone now. 

As you walk towards Transfiguration, you hear Luna walking towards you. 

“Hello,” she says in that musical voice. “How are you, Ginny?”

It’s been a long day, and you don’t have enough energy to pretend that you’re not completely enchanted by her, or that you’re not constantly in awe of how she acts like nobody ever sees.

“I’m doing amazing,” you reply, doing your best not to stare at her and failing miserably.

“That’s good.” She turns to you, her eyes sparkling, and your fingertips brush hers. Your gaze shoots down to your hands, and, without thinking, you’ve taken hers. And then she does something that you weren’t expecting in the least - she smiles.

* * * * 

It’s the night of the Yule Ball, and the two of you are dancing. Luna’s wearing a long, floaty, lavender ball gown that must have cost at least a hundred Galleons. You’re wearing a cream-colored dress that your mom downsized for you. It wouldn’t fit you otherwise; it was your mum’s wedding dress.

She accidentally steps on your toes that are crammed into a pair of too-small ballet flats, and you wince. “Are you okay, Ginny?” she asks you, looking concerned. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, not wanting to scare her off again now that you’ve finally won her back. You see Harry and Draco waltzing towards you.

“Can we go somewhere private?” she inquires. “I’d like to tell you something.” There’s a tone in her voice that you can’t quite identify - sorrow? Anger? You don’t know what it is, only that you’d do anything to make it go away.

“Of course,” you reply instantly. She keeps her arm around your waist as she leads you into the nearest classroom. When the door has been closed and Peeves has been chased out her composure breaks. She slumps against the wall, knees to her chest, sobbing, and you gently ask her, “What’s wrong, Luna?” She lifts her head, and the light streaming in through the window illuminates the wetness on her cheeks. 

“Ginny,” she starts, and your heart melts at hearing your name in such a sad tone. “I’ve enjoyed what we’ve had together, I really have. But I’m afraid it can’t keep going much longer.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you’re pushed to the edge of tears. “Why not?” you whimper, your voice barely louder than your breathing. 

“I have a condition that can’t be fixed,” she says, opening her mouth, showing her… fangs? “Ginny, just look at me. I’m an autistic blood-deprived vampire. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you. Why would you want me anyway?” Her voice breaks. “I’ve seen how you’ve looked at Harry in the past. You’re perfect, Ginny. You should be with people who are good enough for you. Not with people like me who are complete messes in every way.”

“Luna.” Your voice is stern as you speak. “ _ Luna.  _ Nobody is perfect.  _ Especially _ not me. I’ve had my bad days too. But your worst qualities shouldn’t be what you use to define yourself, not when you have so many amazing traits. You are just as perfect as the rest of us - no, scratch that, you’re  _ better _ than the rest of us. Because not only are you smart, pretty, and amazing, you’re  _ yourself _ , and you don’t let other people get to you. You don’t care if people make fun of you. You don’t care if they mock you. And that’s what makes you one of the strongest people in this school.” You slip off of the desk you’re sitting on, landing in a crouch in front of Luna. “That’s why I love you.” 

And then she leans into you, wrapping her arms around you so tight that it feels like you’re a cliff that she’s falling off of, and her face is buried in your shoulder as she whispers, “Thank you.”

You hold her there for a few moments, and then she pushes off of you. There are still tears in her eyes, but she’s smiling as she tells you what you’ve wanted to hear more than anything in your life: “I love you, too.”


	6. Keith/Lance-Voltron

Keith

I wake up, and my head is throbbing. _Oh, God..._ I think as I clutch my forehead and whimper. "Ow, ow, ow, shit," I say to myself, trying to climb out of bed and hitting my head on the bedframe. " _Shit._ " I can't think, I can't block it out, I can't move... The pain is too great.

"You okay?" Lance asks in a worried tone as he slides down the ladder of our bunkbed.

"Not really..." I say, blushing as I shake my head. But the movement only increases the pain, so I lay back on the bed and do nothing for a second. Lance drops all the way down to the floor, his feet thudding on the tiles, and puts his hand on my forehead. 

"You don't seem to have a fever," he confirms. "Maybe it was the water you got up your nose yesterday in the pool."

"Maybe..." I murmur, closing my eyes. 

"Do you want me to go get Pidge?" he whispers, his concern breaking through the usual pride in his voice. "He might be able to help."

"Sure." I respond slowly, and before I know it, I've slipped into a fitful sleep, with Lance's hand still in my hair.

\-----------------------------

When I wake up, he's sitting next to me on a wooden chair that Pidge must have brought up for him. His head is resting on his shoulder, and he's holding my hand. He must be asleep. He _has_ to be asleep. Otherwise, he wouldn't be holding my hand. Suddenly I realize that we're not in the bedroom anymore. Apparently they moved me to the infirmary. "Is it _that_ bad?" I ask myself, not realizing that I'm talking aloud.

"Huh?!" Lance's head snaps up, and I tighten my grip on his hand to keep him from falling over. He looks down at mine and blushes a shade of crimson that I've never seen on a person before. _Hmmm..._

_\---------------------------------_

Lance

_Well, shit..._

He saw me. He _saw_ me. He woke up, and he found me sitting here, sleeping when I'm supposed to be watching him, holding his hand when I'm supposed to be letting him sleep...

At least it's just Keith. If it was any of the others, they'd probably tell Pidge, who would go ballistic on me. 

He probably won't. He just kept me from falling, and, besides, this is _Keith._ The most he'd ever do? He'd probably just pull his hand away, and give me a stern look and a small reprimanding.

I look down, and he's smiling. Literally. His head is on his pillow, and his eyes are closed, and he's still holding onto my hand, and he's _smiling._

I have no idea what's happening right now.

I have no idea, and I love it.

\------------------------------------------------

Keith

I am so happy right now. I'm a mess of emotions, but the main one I'm feeling is joy. He _finally_ noticed me. After a year of me wanting- no, _yearning_ for him to just open his eyes, he's done not only that, but he's looked around and he's noticed me.

We're both smiling, and I don't care if anyone sees us right now. I pull him down a bit more, and sensing my intentions, he leans down until our noses are touching. That's when his lips brush mine. And just like that, we're kissing. 

\-----------------------------------------------

Lance

I'm kissing Keith. Why? 

I don't know, I don't care, but, more importantly, I'm kissing Keith because I'm kissing Keith.

I start to notice all the little details about him, such as how his eyes are just a few shades darker than mine, how his lips smell like caramel even though we haven't had that since we left Earth. How his hair is in his face right now, but not close enough to block me. 

I pull away after a while of this bliss, and, beaming, I tell him, "Keith, I officially love you. And I'm officially bi-curious." This makes him laugh, and, before we know it, we're both doubled over with laughter.

Suddenly we hear a voice from the doorway.

"Lance, why do I have you on camera kissing my patient, who's _supposed_ to be resting?"


End file.
